Giving In
by Enchanted Sloth
Summary: "...You shouldn't have drunk that, Effie." "Why? So you could have it to drown down your sorrows?" "No. Because that's going to give you a killer headache in the morning."


**My very, very first Hayffie fan fiction! Thank you wonderful Tumblr tag for informing me where to buy tickets to board this wonderful ship. Hayffie is a lifestyle...and I happen to live it. :) **

**I was actually scared to write Hayffie. I wasn't sure if I could write the characters right...but oh well, we'll find out. :)  
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**Enjoy! :D  
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**Giving in  
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The bar was halfway empty when I entered through the heavy door, the bartender glancing up to send me an anxious look. It was the fifth time this week I was called by the bar, telling me to come and pick up the man who kept demanding drinks, more drinks than he should be having. If he was going to drink so much, he might as well do it in his own home instead of scaring this poor bartender every night. I stopped and looked around, my teeth chattering from the cold rain that soaked my clothes.

He sat at a bar stool, his hair covering his face as he screamed at the poor bartender. I hurried over, adjusting my wig.

"Haymitch." I sighed, tired of saying his name every night, in the same place, for the past five days.

He blinked, his rage dispersing, and he turned to face me.

"O-Oh, hey there, Princess. C' Mon and have a seat. Maurice here was just about to pour me another drink." Haymitch slurred, patting the stool beside of him.

I shook my head, grabbing his arm.

"Haymitch, it's time to go. You've had too many drinks. Thank you, Maurice. I'll..." I shook my head.

"I'll probably see you tomorrow."

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After a lot of struggling, I finally got Haymitch back to the rooms we were assigned to watch the games. He flung himself on the couch but coaxed an avox to come to him.

"Hey there, Sweetheart. Would you mind bringing me something to drink? Alcohol, of course, and bring me the strongest you can get your fingers on." He smiled at the silent girl, waving her away with his hand.

I shook my head and raised my eyebrows as she walked out, going to retrieve the drink.

I could go back to my room and watch the games in solitude, but if I did, who knew what Haymitch would do? So, like every other night, I joined him on the couch.

"Nice of you to finally join me, Princess. It was getting pretty lonely over here." He smiled, slurring most of his words.

I looked at him and rolled my eyes.

"I'm only keeping you company so you don't do anything you'll regret in the morning." I informed him, watching his smile disappear.

"I don't regret, Sweetheart. Whatever I do is on me." He grabbed the remote, Katniss' face popping up on the screen.

"Then why have I been picking you up from the bar every night? Shouldn't you be taking your own self back here instead of letting the bartender call _me_?" I exclaimed, my lips pursing in frustration.

"Listen, whatever that bartender does is all up to him." Haymitch sighed, sinking into the couch as the axov placed his drink on the table in front of him. She scurried out of the room quickly.

"It's not up to him if you tell him that I'm your 'emergency contact' and 'the only one you have'. Not to mention how you tell him I'm your 'uptight, but old and reliable, bitch'. Who else is he supposed to call? Sadly, I'm used to picking you up from the bar. But never this much. Haymitch, what is wrong with you?" I huffed.

And that was the truth. Haymitch going to the bar started a long time ago, the fist time I ever got a call was five years ago. At first, I had refused to pick up the drunken man, but then I heard his shouts over the phone speakers. I had to pull the phone away from my ear, he was being so loud. The fact that the bartender was begging me to come and pick Haymitch up wasn't what made me go, it was the lingering thought that Haymitch might be doing this in front of people we might need to call 'sponsors'. Plus, he might hurt someone, or even else, himself.

"He doesn't need to call anyone and he just needs to serve me my drinks. I pay, he gives. That's his damn job and he needs to do it!" Haymitch shouted.

"Well, Haymitch, it wasn't exactly my idea of a perfect night to come and rescue you from assaulting a bartender for drinks he wasn't allowed to serve you because it's _against the law._ In fact, it wasn't exactly my dream to become an escort who not only had to escort two children to their impending death, but also babysit a man who's a condescending drunkard! But you know what, Haymitch, I've learned to care about your well being. And that should be enough."

"You're right, I shouldn't be your responsibility. In fact, I don't even know why you care at all. I know that I sure as hell don't care about you, Princess. You're nothing but a capitol doll, plastic and emotionless. You're so full of yourself, with your wigs and makeup and manners. You don't even care about the tributes that _you_ put into the game! Every year, you come back, diggin' your perfectly done up nails in a bowl filled with the names of every innocent kid in District 12. Who would even _apply _for a job like that? Lets get this straight. I'm the mentor and you're the escort. You're going to nag the kids about manners while I drink. It's the way it's always been and the way it's going to continue to be." He growled, reaching for his drink.

Oh, no he didn't.

My hand shot out for the drink and, before I could even think about what I was doing, the whole thing was down my throat. I threw the glass at the wall, watching it shatter.

It took a few seconds to recognize it, but my throat was burning from the intensity of the drink. After the burning left, I noticed how wonderful it felt. No wonder why Haymitch drunk.

Oh yeah, Haymitch.

My eyes wandered back towards him, a bit afraid at what I might find.

His eyes were wide, full with rage, and his mouth was gaping like a fish.

"Oh, so now you decided to show a little emotion. Why'd you go and do that for, Princess?" He asked, so sarcastic and full of spite that it made me shiver.

The words that formed in my throat refused to come out, so I stood, my hands clenched in tight fists at my sides.

"I'm not emotionless, Haymitch! Every year, as you said, you're drunk. You're always _drunk. _This year we manage to get some survivors, but what have you been doing this whole time? _Drinking. _And every year, when our tributes die, while you're drinking all of your problems away, I lie in my room and _weep. _As you said, I'm the escort and you're the mentor. You're supposed to get close to the kids and teach them to survive! I'm supposed to take them to the capitol! But, no. Every year, I play role as the escort and the mentor!" I shout, trying to keep composure but failing as I hear words slur from my mouth.

One little drink and I had already lost it.

Was it little? Didn't Haymitch say the _strongest_ that they had? Oh well. Too late now.

His gaze hardened, the flames in his eyes burning brighter. Yet, he didn't say anything.

"I'd love for it to be the other way around one day! I'd love for you to have to take care of me while I'm drunk, just so you can see how it fees!" I rage, my fists trying to find something to do.

"...You shouldn't have drunk that, Effie."

"Why? So you could have it to drown down your sorrows?"

"No. Because that's going to give you a killer headache in the morning." He laughed.

I turned towards the game, watching Katniss apply medicine to her burn wounds. Medicine that I didn't remember Haymitch sending.

"Did you send that?"

His voice softened.

"Yeah. She was real bad. Saw it in the bar. This year I've actually gotten lots of money from sponsors...Katniss and Peeta are fighters, and people see that. But most of the money is pointed towards Katniss."

I can't help but look surprised that Haymitch actually made an effort this year.

"Shocked, Sweetheart? I've been doing stuff this year. I realized that when they lasted through the first night, I needed to start getting out there for sponsors. I don't think I can take seeing another pair die..." He hung his head, ashamed at what he admitted.

I smiled lightly.

"And obviously you can't take it either." He whispered.

I shook my head, feeling my wig tilt to one side. Haymitch noticed, glancing up suddnely.

"Stop." He spoke as I reached up to fix it.

Getting up from the couch, he stumbled towards me and softly uprooted the wig from my head. My light blond hair cascaded down and framed my face, curly from constantly being cramped up in a wig. I closed my eyes, feeling his eyes on me. He took his thumb and rubbed away some of the makeup that caked my face.

"Princess...why do you wear this crap when you look so much more beautiful without all of it on?" He asked softly, closing in on my face.

I opened my eyes quickly, feeling exposed.

"Without it, I would stick out like a sore thumb in the capitol. And I would be ridiculed..." I managed to whisper.

His breath grazed my cheek, the smell of alcohol and cherries suddenly alluring.

Alluring? When did_ that_ happen? When did _Haymitch Abernathy_ become so handsome? I mean, he's always been handsome. Even since his Games, but...

His lips were suddenly on mine, so soft it was like they were barely there. I couldn't take it anymore. Grabbing him around the neck, I pulled him closer and mashed our lips together. He responded instantly, our tongues battling in dominance.

He pulled away suddenly, leaving me wanting more. My confused face must have amused him because he smirked.

"Time for bed, Princess. If you want, we can continue this tomorrow. When you're _sober._"

And he walked right past me to get a drink from the tiny bar in the corner of the room.

I scurried from the room, trying not to think of what happened. Yet, as I lay in bed that night, it hit me.

I had feelings for Haymitch Abernathy, the man who spent his nights at bars, harassing bartenders for drinks they weren't allowed to give when they had already given you five extra drinks you didn't need. The man who was so irritating and annoyed me everyday. No less, he would probably tease me when I wake up with a massive headache. But his last words...did he mean them?

I drifted asleep, giving in and letting him consume my mind.

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**Is this a oneshot? I didn't put it as one, but honestly, I don't know. I'll probably write more because I have this whole head fic I've been wanting to get out, but it depends. :0 But I'll probably continue it because I honestly have nothing better to do other than make videos and...I still need song inspiration. :I**

**Anywho, I hope you enjoyed this...this thing! It'd be nice if you'd review, but I'll probably continue even if you don't...because...of reasons. 3  
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**_Feels._  
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